Steamtalia: the engineer and the air pirate
by BlondieBrit
Summary: SO MANY PAIRINGS! Steampunk world, Alfred is Arthur's son and is to inherit the clockwork business. He meets a handsome Russian airship captain and gets a major crush but doesn't see him again for a long time. Since then, Arthur's met Juliette and her pretty daughter Madeleine. Love love love and steampunk. What can be better? :P
1. Chapter 1

**Hi darlings! I'm baaack! So this is a new idea I recently had and just needed to act on. I have a lush storyline ready for this so I hope you all like it! Please review, I know I haven't been active recently but it really makes me feel like it's important to write quickly for you all xx (obviously don't own hetalia etc. etc.) **

**(Italics is in their native language)**

A young man was bent over a workshop table, telescopic glasses on, with an oil stained leather apron covering his simple cream shirt and brown breeches. He didn't wear a waistcoat anymore, his father would be angry, but the man never left his own workshop to see so what was the point? There's no one in the shop to impress, except customers, besides, it was late and the shop was closed. It was much too late for any dignified waistcoat-wearing people to be awake, let alone shopping.

Then again, London wasn't full of such people. The factory workers and designers, engineers and aeronauts greatly outnumbered the pleasure-seeking upper class. If he wasn't so busy and had decided to take a walk, he wouldn't be at all surprised to find the streets scattered with airship crews looking for somewhere to spend the rest of their money, artists and engineers hunting for inspiration and materials, not to mention the men and women of the night lurking in every corner and alleyway with the occasional client brave enough or rich enough to risk a fine. Perhaps even the odd scientist could be caught hunting in cemeteries or derelict houses with the ambition of re-creating life - it was the most exciting technological breakthrough at present, but no case had been successful for longer than a few minutes. Every scientist with ambition was working on various projects, often teaming up with others in their area. Cities were very competitive and ever since London lost the race to make a balloon hotel, and lost to Paris out of everyone, their fiercest competition, London were desperate to be the first to master such a thing as resurrection.

The boy felt a droplet of sweat travel down his cheek as he picked up the microscopic cogs with his tired old tools, rejects from his father, and held his breath as everything, to his surprise and delight, fitted perfectly. He carefully set down the tool and pulled the eyepiece away from his face, accidentally scratching his cheek with the rough metal edge as he laid it on the table, but didn't even notice due to excitement. He fitted the key to the object and wound it slowly, watching the mechanics turn with not a glitch. After a few turns, he set the key down and watched his creation start to flap its wings and move its weight from foot to foot. It wasn't flying but he wouldn't have even dreamt about making something so complex, this was his first clockwork pet.

"Sir!" He grabbed the bird and ran out of the room, through the dark shop, knowing each twist and turn, having lived here for all of his 19 years. He ran up the stairs with a huge smile on his face, hugging the bird to his chest as it tried to bite his apron.

"Sir!?" He almost squeaked with excitement, knocking frantically on the door to his father's workshop. He didn't wait for a response before pushing the door open and walking up to the desk, passing the various creations both finished and unfinished, a man hunched over a pile of metal pieces, obviously a new object. At the sound of the door opening, he lifted his head and moved the goggles from his face to his forehead, pushing back his fringe and showing his large eyebrows and big green eyes.

"You've finished it, Alfred?" He asked, trying to hide his annoyance at being interrupted, that boy will never learn.

"Yes, oh look sir, it works! I-I made a bird!" Arthur held a hand out for it and Alfred eagerly gave him his precious creation. Arthur looked it over and then swapped the goggles for an eyepiece and inspected the intricate gears and soldering, looking for any imperfections. His job was to make such things, so there was no better eye for detail that himself.

"You didn't give it power." Arthur scolded, switching the light on his eyepiece and looking into the depths of the pet, silent as it was, waiting to be re-wound.

"Yeah, it's too hard for me. I-"

"Be quiet." Arthur snapped. "Nothing is too hard forever, if you at least tried to give this creature flight I could have fixed any mistakes. A flightless owl. It's useless." He removed the glasses and stood up, joints creaking with the new position, and handed the bird back to a quiet Alfred who stroked its head gently, he didn't have the heart to take it apart, not after all the time that he'd spent working on it.

"It's an eagle." He eased open a wing to show Arthur the span.

"That's fine. Get it out of here, I have work to do boy." Arthur turned away, dismissing Alfred who narrowed his eyes

"Yes sir." He said simply.

Alfred closed the door gently before stomping downstairs and back to his desk, winding the bird up and wishing that he'd not been lazy with it. Maybe it would be flying around the room and singing by now. Many of Arthur's pets could make noises, something he hadn't even taught Alfred yet, for he knew that he wasn't good enough. Alfred punched the wall and gritted his teeth. He didn't want to stay cooped up in this shop forever with his old man. He couldn't remember the last time he went exploring, so focussed on that eagle he'd been for the past month.

He looked at his new pet and picked up the key, winding it again till it clicked into automatic, recharging itself. It struggled in his arms briefly, ripping at the apron with a sharp wing, before recognising its creator and then calmed down immediately, sitting happily in his arms.

"Hi birdy." Alfred said proudly. "Ready to see the world outside this lame old building?" He gently set the pet on his desk and rummaged in a box of leather scraps for a good long piece, the bird walking shakily on its new legs around the desk as it waited for him, daintily stepping over various tools and mechanics. Alfred messily sewed some leather together into an armband with buckles and some more leather attached to that, and wrapped it around his forearm tightly to protect his arm from metal claws, and encouraged the bird to walk onto the makeshift perch, and put his spare hand on its side in case it fell, knowing how delicate it was for not being able to fly. He stood up and it shuffled slightly on his arm, soon getting comfortable and opened its beak but of course no sound came out. It tried again and Alfred felt determined to get Arthur to teach him how to make it fly and sing, as soon as possible. Glad of his strength since the bird was by no means light, he grabbed the nearest hat, out of habit, and left the workshop, wondering if his previous assumptions of those out and about at night had been correct.

Just around the corner from the clockwork shop that led into the centre of town was the sound of drunken fighting, so Alfred quickly headed the other direction, to the docks. He always loved to see the great airships, especially in the day when crews were singing as they worked, the sound of inflating gas bags and the smell of fuel, the handsome men in uniforms marching up and down gangplanks of military ships. Alfred was not ashamed to have a weakness for a man in uniform. He'd met a military airman once, but was too scared to sleep with him. He'd been too young then, and still was young, but he knew that he wouldn't stand one up again, should the chance arise.

The bird was pecking at the strap of his apron lightly, wanting attention, and Alfred smiled fondly, running a finger lightly down its back, the polished feathers and whirring clockwork soothing him.

As he walked into the docks and down the ramp, he felt an overwhelming sense of power, imagining himself as the master of all these ships, of their crews. It was his favourite daydream, a hopeless one, for he was Arthur's only son and knew he must take over the business one day. He didn't want to think about that. Not of running a business that he has so much to learn in, or of his old man getting too old to work. He loved Arthur, but wished they'd get to hang out sometimes, just go to town for the day and spend some of that money Arthur had been saving since before he could remember. It probably made a pretty penny by now.

Lost in thought, he failed to realise that he was approaching a recently docked airship.

"_Five hours, comrades! Spend it how you will but we leave at dawn, with or without you!"_ Alfred felt his heart speeding up at the sound of that language, whatever it is. A foreign crew! He backed up to the wall so as not to get in their way, and winced as his pet stepped off his leather perch and onto his bare arm, claws digging into his flesh. It sensed his excitement, and echoed it, head turning here there and everywhere to watch the crew.

Men in beige uniforms with red trim hurried down the gangplank, excitedly chattering in a variety of languages, not more than an occasional glance given to Alfred as they hurried to spend their money on the various pleasure houses, gambling dens, taverns, opium dens and whatever else they can find.

Alfred squinted in the darkness as he saw some barrels being rolled away to what looked like another airship. They must be traders then. He edged closer and saw one of the barrels standing up with crew helping themselves to whatever liquid is inside, filling up their tankards.

A figure who Alfred assumed was the captain loomed behind the barrel, keeping an eye on the rations most likely. Why some crew were staying by the ship to drink and not the nearby tavern was past Alfred, it was cold, dark and uncomfortable.

He stepped a little closer and his bird finally moved back onto its perch, the creaking of metal on metal alerting the crew to his presence.

"_What are you doing here so late, boy?"_ One of them asked, but the captain noticed the confusion and fear in the boy's face and left his position, walking over to him.

"You are a local?" He asked with a smile. Alfred knew he was looking ridiculous, frozen to the spot as he was. The man was very tall, even more than his own 6ft 1, of which he was very proud. He wore a navy blue knee length coat with gold trim, his neck hidden behind a tightly wound scarf that draped down his back and he had white gloves. It was too dark to see the rest of his clothes and what he did see was only in an instant, for Alfred found himself captivated by a pair of wide purple eyes, framed by silver lashes and unlike the small hat that was common for captains to wear, a leather flight helmet lay upon his head of silver hair.

"_What do you speak?" _He asked Alfred, in that mysterious language, the hint of annoyance evident although his tone was soft.

"I don't understand you, sir." Alfred managed to say, desperately trying to trap his bird against himself without it pecking him to death, the thought of it biting the foreign captain making him feel sick with worry.

"Local, da. I thought so." He turned to his crew and gave them orders to guard the vessel and not to let anyone else get so close as this, not that Alfred would understand, and put a hand between Alfred's shoulder blades, leading him back up the ramp to the street. Away from his airship.

"It is late to be in the docks. Are you there for a reason?" Alfred could listen to that voice all day, the pitch dancing around, tongue curling sounds and changing them to something beautiful.

"I like looking at the airships." He said simply, a bit awestruck, to be honest.

The captain didn't like this. No one should be watching their activities. Deciding that staying with him would be the best way of assuring secrecy of the trade, he decided that is what he would do. He wondered if this boy could give him advice on where to go, since he has trusty members of the crew guarding the precious cargos, both being delivered and those still hidden on board. "I do not get to see land much, so would you show me around?" The captain asked sweetly, all the while, encouraging him away from the docks.

"A tour? Well sure. I mean, yes sir. I'd be honoured." Alfred tried to remember his manners around someone with such prestige as a captain.

To his horror, the bird was finding the stranger potentially a better perch than Alfred, and tried to walk from Alfred's aching arm and over to the captain. "No, behave!" Alfred said desperately, stopping walking, and grabbed the bird in his hands before it could reach the new person. It pecked Alfred's fingers and made him bleed, but the airship captain just laughed softly and offered his arm.

"It is no problem, I come across many things more dangerous than a clockwork creature. Do not be afraid." Alfred shook his head, embarrassed at how badly behaved this bird was, it needed a lot of work.

"He likes to peck and scratch. I wouldn't want your uniform ruined, sir." He held the bird tighter, and the captain looked downcast.

"If you don't want to, I understand." He lowered his arm and started to look around at his surroundings, for this is the first time he's been in London and was as curious as his crew to how different things were here than in Moscow. He looked back at the boy who was now fighting to keep control of his bird, it was pecking him again, and under the faint streetlamps he could see various cuts and rips that the bird must have been responsible for.

"Don't keep something that hurts you." He said bluntly, standing in front of Alfred and grabbed the bird, a hand wrapped around its body, the other keeping its beak closed. "I would take it to a shop to be turned less aggressive if you are fond of it."

Alfred sighed in defeat. "Well I made him, it's my fault he's such a fighter. If I-"

"You?" The captain asked in surprise, holding the bird up to his face and trying to see the detail. "I wish I could make a companion…it requires more skill than I possess." Alfred felt a little smile of pride forming at the compliment.

"Nah, I'm not so talented as you. Flying an airship, keeping a crew under command and fighting the weather, that's skilful. Way cooler than making some rogue bird."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Would you like him back? He does not like me." The bird was wriggling frantically in his grip, and as soon as Alfred lifted his arm, it obediently hopped back and buried its face against him for comfort.

"Hey little guy, don't be scared." Alfred sounded surprised. "You're the first person it's met…apart from my old man, but he doesn't count."

The silence that met that comment made Alfred assume the man didn't care about such things, and Alfred briefly let his mind drift back home, wondering if his dad had realised he wasn't home and started looking for him, or drinking…

With a last look down to his airship, the captain started walking down the street, and to his pleasure, Alfred stayed by his side, looking down at the pavement.

"What are you thinking, little one?"

"I'm not little, I'm nineteen!" Alfred replied indignantly, manners forgotten, and would have folded his arms had there not been a bird on one. "And I was thinking about…stuff." He glanced up at him again. "Where are you from, anyway? You're traders, right?"

The captain smiled down at him but it wasn't a natural smile. The darkness hid such a detail from Alfred, however. "We just arrived from Vienna but our motherland is Moscow."

"Motherland? So my motherland is London, huh? Doesn't feel like it."

The captain chuckled.

"You do not like it here? You seem settled." Alfred shrugged and scratched his head.

"It's alright. One of the safest cities apparently, but you'd know more about that than me. Never left this dump." They stepped over a pile of rags that may or may not have been a person, and Alfred felt himself growing more and more attracted to this man.

"If you do not feel like this is your motherland, you should find the place that is."

That surprised Alfred, and he looked over at him.

"How? I can't fly. I've never flown."

"Never. Can't. Different words." Alfred huffed at that, everyone seemed to be telling him such things recently.

"I'm Alfred by the way. Alfred Kirkland."

"Ivan." Was the simple response, distracted as he was by the new surroundings, readjusting to walking on firm ground once again, and the smells of earth.

They walked past the shop and Alfred couldn't help but look to see if Arthur's workshop light was on, but no. The man was probably drinking in a tavern somewhere.

"Could you-just-would you mind just wai-where are you headed, sir?" Alfred blurted out, getting tired of carrying the bird around and feeling rather silly still in his apron.

"You want to leave?" Ivan asked, not attempting to hide the disappointment in his voice. He liked this attractive boy with the bird.

"Well, this is my place and my arm is getting tired." He held up the bird as means of explanation, but it had a claw entangled in his apron and as he lifted it, a terrible grating sound happened, and the claw separated from the foot.

"Shit! Ivan sir, I'm sorry but I have to go! Can I…would you...maybe like to come inside? It wouldn't be as grand as a cabin in an airship and-"

"I'd love to." Ivan replied, clapping his hands together in excitement and to stop Alfred from rambling anymore.

"Alright then, it's just here. I need to set birdy's foot right and then I am free for th-at your service."

They entered the shop, Ivan looking around in curiosity at the clockwork and seriously considered becoming a client for this family. Those in Berlin were very fond of clockwork and had an opening in the market that could well be filled with some of these. The technology and skill were impressive. He amused himself as he walked past some mechanical flowers that swayed as he passed them. A while later he followed Alfred to the only lit room, already bent over the bird that was now still, he must have paused it, and leant in the doorway as he watched curiously. His skills were in negotiation, fighting and navigation, something as complicated as this would drive him to insanity, he was sure of it. Alfred looked up and smiled shyly before returning to his task of returning the claw to the foot. He had on a rather funny looking headpiece that covered an eye with glass. Alfred's hand flew out and clicked a button on the device, changing something. Ivan wanted to know what.

"Nearly-fi-nished." Alfred said in concentration as he did the finishing touches. He sat up in his chair the second it was healed, and his head hit against what he thought was a wall. Turning around, he saw that it was just Ivan's chest. The man was standing behind him, watching.

He giggled. "I scared you? That was funny." Alfred felt nervous at the eerie giggle but just forced a smile and set the bird down, leaving it off for now.

"Alfred." Ivan said, more commanding this time, turning the seat with one hand so they were facing each other. 'Damn that man is strong.' Thought Alfred. "I'm a captain of an airship, I have many powers and influences in the sky." He knelt down so they were level and Alfred felt more and more excited, unable to help himself. Ivan was looking right into his eyes. "Your business would profit if you become my supplier." Alfred almost pouted.

"Yeah well, it's not my decision. You'll have to find pops and he isn't here right now."

Ivan tilted his head and put on a cute expression, almost a smile and almost a pout. "I have three hours. Will he be home?" Alfred shook his head and shrugged; trying to act casual despite feeling his body temperature increase and blood start to sink south. Ivan was a God of a man.

Ivan let out a little sigh and stood up, crotch almost at Alfred's face level and he had to restrain himself from doing anything uncouth, and turned back to the desk. A hand patted his shoulder, a strong hand that had controlled airships and had surely touched many bodies of lovers.

"I will find somewhere for fun. I will make sure to return to London, I would like to see you again Alfred. In light and with an agreement, or two." He smirked, Alfred could hear it in his voice, and wondered why.

Just as Ivan made it to the door, Alfred's legs sprang to life and he grabbed the captain's sleeve.

"You can have fun here. With me." He'd said it. Oh God he couldn't believe he'd said it. Ivan smiled happily and turned to him.

"I will have both." He pulled the apron over Alfred's head and laid it on the desk, quickly found a leather coat, which he assumed was Alfred's, and handed it to him before opening the front door and stepping onto the street.

"Where is a place to have fun, comrade?"


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm sorry for keeping you waiting for so long! As payment, here is the longest sex scene I have ever written XD I hope you like it~ please comment, follow etc. you'd make me super happy xxx (I can't remember what rating this was, but it is now M! Very, very M) next part will have more story, for those who aren't fans of sex scenes, don't worry **

Alfred's heart was pounding in his ears. Finally, FINALLY he was going to lose his virginity. In Alfred's eyes, being with a woman didn't do anything to a male's virginity, only when with another male would it be gone. Glancing up at Ivan he could see a little smile on his lips as they walked side by side down streets that he would be too scared to go down by himself. No, Alfred told himself, not scared, just…not stupid. People disappear if they don't belong. He trusted Ivan to keep him safe, and it seemed to be a wise decision. No one even approached them. Alfred smiled smugly, he felt invincible with this man beside him. After passing yet another brothel without a second glance form Ivan, he decided some communication was necessary.

"What kind of fun? You do mean...you know…" he glanced up at him hoping to not have to explain but Ivan just smiled at him, waiting for him to finish. The sadist. "…drinking fun or, or rent a room and use it kind of fun?"

Ivan suddenly wrapped his arm around Alfred's shoulders, pulling him close, not stopping walking.

"I thought we have already decided. I was waiting for you to choose somewhere." He looked down at Alfred who was now blushing and looking embarrassed. "Let's go in here. Drink and rooms. That is what I want." He was looking at the sign for a tavern with the reputation for all manner of perverted and scandalous activity, making Alfred move closer to him automatically.

Still with an arm over his shoulders, Ivan casually walked through the old door covered in warnings and they instantly found themselves swooped upon by black market traders, prostitutes of both genders and a rather ambitious pickpocket. Before Alfred knew what was happening, only dimly aware of a man pushing past them, Ivan had let him go and grabbed the pickpocket by a wrist so hard that it cracked and made the man howl and let go of the pocket watch that he must have stolen from him. The crowd backed away at the scream, realising what was happening.

Alfred felt his eyes widen in both amazement and horror, he could only imagine Ivan in the sky fighting pirates. Something that slightly unnerved him was that Ivan's expression was just as relaxed as it was chatting with Alfred, only this time he was breaking someone's wrist. With a stomach churning snap, Ivan let the now crying man go and the workers of the tavern quickly pushed the pickpocket outside, not wanting him to scare away clients. They also now knew that Ivan was someone they wouldn't overcharge or otherwise toy with.

A barmaid came over and Ivan let her lead them to a couple of stools near the end.

"What can I get you gentlemen, then?"

Ivan looked at Alfred, waiting for him to say, but at the blank look on the boy's face he ordered for them. Rum for Alfred, since all the engineers on his crew seemed to like the stuff and Alfred was an engineer of sorts, and of course a bottle of vodka for himself. When the barmaid went off to sort the order, Ivan turned to Alfred.

"You don't drink, Alfred?" Alfred felt embarrassed at how surprised Ivan sounded. Was it that unusual to not drink? …in London it probably was.

"My old man drinks, you see. He gets really miserable, so much so that I feel the need to check to see if he's still alive, and then sometimes he gets furious and smashes up his creations and doesn't leave his room for a couple of days afterwards. I don't want to be like that too."

Ivan smiled fondly at him and Alfred noticed a new emotion in his eyes, was that...protective? No, no he didn't want that, he wanted Ivan to be dragging him to the nearest room!

"Don't panic," he teased. "You'll be fine. It's fun, comrade." The second the drinks were on the table, Ivan picked up Alfred's glass and inspected the liquid suspiciously before setting it down in front of him. "Drink up then."

He uncorked the vodka and filled a glass, drinking it almost like water. He waited for Alfred to drink some rum, he hoped he'd chosen well.

"Well here goes nothing." Alfred murmured, lifting the glass and pouring some of the golden liquid down his throat. He slammed the glass back down and almost clawed at his throat, the burning sensation made him feel ill. Ivan's hand was suddenly on his, pulling it away from his neck. Once the burning stopped, Alfred had to admit that it did taste nice…really nice. Probably not enough to want him to make a habit of that burning.

"What do you think?" Alfred could hear the hope in his voice and smiled boyishly. "It was nice once it stopped shredding my throat." Ivan smirked at that and re-filled his own before having another gulp of the vodka. "Can I try that? Vodka, right?" Ivan smiled wider, trying in vain to hide his amusement, wondering what Alfred would think when he realises it's almost double the strength of the rum.

"Try it, of course." Alfred reached over to take the glass and drank it as he'd seen Ivan doing, almost throwing up right there. His hand went over his mouth and he willed the stuff to go down his throat. It tasted disgusting and didn't go with the rum at all, not to mention that it felt as if he was drinking acid.

Ivan laughed at the disgusted expression on Alfred's face. Vodka wasn't for everybody, and was expensive in these parts anyway, so the dislike saves him some money, not that he'd be without money for long if his plans to intercept the German trader were to be successful.

"I need a-something." Alfred was still fighting nausea, and with a look from Ivan, a nearby barmaid stopped smirking at him and fetched some water. Water wasn't the healthiest thing to drink in the cities, grease and pollution altering the taste to something like iron, but it was what Alfred needed so Ivan handed it to him, who gratefully downed it after a nervous sip at first.

To Ivan's surprise, Alfred had picked up the rum again and was sipping it very slowly and daintily, his other hand pushing the vodka back to Ivan who easily downed and refilled it. Alfred had soon finished the glass and was obviously starting to be affected. His face had developed a red flush to his cheeks and his expression was clear in what he wanted from Ivan. With a quick payment for an empty room, and a half empty vodka bottle in one hand, a tipsy Alfred clinging to his other arm, he followed the prostitute to the room. Ivan decided that he liked London. She left them at the door once it was clear she wasn't wanted further, and Ivan pushed Alfred in before shutting the door behind them.

The room was small and with clothes, blood and drugs scattered around. There was a chaise lounge drapes with a variety of fabrics, a box with black leather toys for the more kinky clients, and another box of feathers and other toys. A table was littered with various pipes, needles, boxes and pills with prices next to them. Ivan ignored all of these and led Alfred straight to the bed, a double of course, covered in various shades of red ranging from scarlet to dark burgundy. It looked tacky but somehow sexy. Alfred, who'd been resisting this for ages, reached up and took the flight hat from Ivan's head and put it on his own, looking around for a mirror in which to see himself, the heroic airship captain off hunting pirates and keeping the skies free. Ivan chuckled, almost a giggle, ran a hand through his hair and took out his pocket watch again, flipping it open and the shiny case did well as a mirror for him. Alfred took it despite the Russian's anxious attempts to get it back, turning away from him and admiring himself. "I make a great pilot," Alfred slurred in his tipsy state before turning back to Ivan and handing the watch back, much to Ivan's relief.

Ivan stepped close to him and put a finger under Alfred's chin, making him look up at him. "You stay down here on the ground, Alfred. The sky isn't a place for everyone." He ignored the scowl and bent down, about to kiss him, but decided against it, not wanting this to be awkward and predictable. Alfred had already let his eyes flicker shut, waiting excitedly for the kiss that never came. Ivan moved his hand away and walked to the chair to drink some more, to Alfred's dismay. He took advantage of his confidence gained from the alcohol and just as Ivan tipped his head back to down the drink, Alfred sat on his lap, leg on the chair either side, and a steely look on his face. He knew what he wanted and that was Ivan.

Ivan almost choked on his drink as he felt the boy sit on him and shifted position a little, only teasing him with friction. He set the bottle and glass down next to them and wrapped his arms around Alfred's waist, both of them eagerly meeting in a kiss, Alfred throwing his arms around Ivan's neck automatically. The kiss was heated and accompanied by moans from them both, the two practically attacking each other, but whereas Alfred's confidence was from alcohol, Ivan's was experience. Ivan pulled Alfred closer and bit on Alfred's lips until he parted them to let the Russian invade his mouth and rocked his hips on Ivan as their tongues met, causing him to pause, Alfred taking advantage of this and push their tongues back into Ivan's mouth, the two battling stubbornly until Ivan pulled his gloves off, and started unbuttoning and unclipping Alfred's coat. As if an internal switch had been pressed, Alfred immediately stopped fighting and allowed himself to be controlled, a hand running through Ivan's hair.

Ivan forced Alfred's hands off him and slid the coat onto the floor, never breaking the kiss, his own running up and down Alfred's body, exploring him. The second Alfred was freed, his hands went to Ivan's neck again, almost instinctively, and toyed with the scarf, undoing it and letting it fall on the back of the chair, hands tucking into his collar.

They kissed for a long time, and somehow ended up with Alfred's legs wrapped around Ivan's hips whilst the Russian felt more and more desperate for this boy, man, whatever he was. Alfred. This wasn't about hiding his illegal activities from the eyes of civilians, and he wasn't sure it ever was.

Ivan stood up with Alfred trapped against him, his legs and arms around him, and walked to the bed, the kiss finally broken as Alfred buried his head against Ivan's shoulder. No one had been able to carry him before, it had done nothing for his worry about weight. Ivan practically dropped him on the bed and fell down after him, both grinning at each other and Alfred made to kiss him again but Ivan went for his neck instead, kissing and sucking his flesh. Alfred moaned happily and brought a leg up to rub against the Russian's crotch slowly. He was rewarded with a heated gasp against his neck and then a sudden shoot of pleasured pain was felt just halfway down his neck, a feeling Alfred had to admit was rather good.

Ivan finished the love-bite, satisfied with the writhing Alfred beneath him. He knelt between Alfred's legs and made quick work of his oil stained shirt, looking approvingly at this new canvas, pinching a nipple roughly, causing Alfred to yelp, and then did the same to the other but gentler. He leant over him and kissed him again, hands travelling over the easily felt abs beneath a thing layer of puppy fat, suddenly digging into his ribs and just avoided a kick to the groin as Alfred laughed and writhed, batting his hand away. Ivan giggled back and could tell Alfred was getting impatient because of the pair of hands fumbling with the military coat. Ivan couldn't help but be distracted by the straining muscles as Alfred leant up to reach.

"Help me out, Ivan. This thing is hell to undo." Alfred grumbled, and Ivan smiled fondly and eventually took over, soon taking it off and throwing it to the chair. That was one thing he couldn't afford to get dirty. Alfred looked in awe at Ivan's impressive waistcoat of exotic patterned fabric, something he'd had made for him in Cairo a few years ago. Alfred undid it carefully and as Ivan wriggled out of it, fell back to the bed, muscles tired of being strained for so long. Ivan also quickly rid himself of the shirt and an unusual thick leather vest that wrapped around his chest and left arm and tied with a buckle at his side.

"What's that?" Alfred asked curiously.

"It's a plastron. You don't know it?" Ivan practically cooed and Alfred scowled in embarrassment. "No risk of being stabbed in the heart for you I suppose. Except if your bird gets angry, da?" The scowl darkened. "Oh I'm playing, Alfred. Don't look at me so coldly."

Ivan dropped the clothes on the floor and undid Alfred's breeches, leaning over him and capturing his lips in another kiss, Alfred unable to keep it up as he felt Ivan's cold hand on his burning erection. He let his hands explore the hugeness of Ivan, his thick muscled arms and torso, scars littered around, especially where the scarf had been, it's a miracle the man was alive. Alfred got the idea that Ivan was not an easy man to kill, something that made him very happy.

Just as he felt unable to get any harder, Ivan squeezed and started to rub, still kissing him, and Alfred thought he'd embarrass himself and finish right there. Ivan had been teasing him for such a long time. With a low groan from Alfred and giving up trying to return the kiss, Ivan let him go and pulled his shoes off and tugged the breeches to the floor with the ever growing pile of clothes, Alfred now completely naked on the bed except for his wire glasses.

Ivan ignored Alfred's throbbing dick for now, realising that the lad was trying hard not to come so looked around the room for grease, having to get off the bed again to do so. Alfred whined as he left him, causing a little tremor in Ivan's chest, something that he worried about. He wouldn't see him again, perhaps ever, at the very least a few months, and only to inquire as to whether his father would become a supplier.

As Ivan was thinking this, he found a pot of grease, over half used already, to his disgust, but this was by no means an air hotel. There was no class in a tavern. Walking back to Alfred, he noticed the boy had closed his legs and was looking tense.

"Are you scared?" He asked sadly, those afraid of him get classified differently to those like Alfred who…well he didn't really know where Alfred is in his mind. He will have plenty of time to work that out.

"No way, man! I've not done this much so, you know, be nice okay?" He blushed but smiled trustingly at him. Ivan smiled back.

"_Of course, little sunflower._" Ivan looked innocently at Alfred as he coated a finger in grease and eased Alfred's legs apart. Alfred obliged but wasn't happy with the answer.

"Say what? As sexy as your language is, I don't understand a w-ahhh!" Alfred hadn't noticed the first finger enter him and the unexpected feeling finished him, making a mess, and he quickly wiped himself clean with some of the sheets.

Ivan chuckled leans leant over him, kissing his nose lightly. "This is a very special night Alfred, I hope you remember it." Alfred looked embarrassed and just tried to stay still, letting Ivan get on with it, now he had worked out that Alfred was a virgin. Ivan wasn't the gentlest of lovers, so after a rather painful few minutes, he removed the fingers and Alfred relaxed again. Unfortunately now, Alfred felt empty and wanted Ivan in him. Sitting up and shifting the weight away from his sore area, he only just noticed that Ivan still had his boots and breeches on.

"Why are you still dressed!?" He asked in annoyance, moving onto his front and grabbing at Ivan's leg to untie his tall boots. Ivan held onto the bedstand as he lifted a leg to help Alfred, who managed to pull the boot off and then they repeated the process. Alfred hesitated only briefly at the breeches, desperate to see the final part of Ivan, before unbuttoning him and sliding them down, his erection clear to see and Alfred felt his eyes widen. Would it even fit? There's no way that could fit inside him without some kind of permanent damage!

Ivan was feeling self conscious at being stared at, so put his hand on Alfred's shoulders and pushed at him to lie back down but Alfred was strong and resisted. He sat up properly and stroked Ivan's member with a finger before taking it in a hand and rubbing it, satisfied by the groan he'd got from the man himself. Without thinking, Alfred leant closer and licked the head; surprised by the thrust Ivan did and let him into his mouth. He was aware of himself growing hard again. He felt a hand grip his hair and he closed his eyes; moving his head back and forth on Ivan's dick, tongue tracing the slit and exploring him. It was almost like a kiss when Ivan suddenly moaned out 'suck' and Alfred obliged, sucking as he let Ivan take charge of the motion, pushing Alfred's head back and forth on his dick. Alfred let out a groan as he felt the grip tighten on his hair and he was aware of a salty taste in his mouth, Ivan must be getting pretty close.

Suddenly Ivan pulled him off him and pushed Alfred onto his front, dragging him to the edge of the bed and put a hand under him to hold him up. His member wet with saliva and pre cum easily went in and Alfred let out a wanton moan, gripping the covers and wiggling his bum, trying to get Ivan deeper. It hurt but the pleasure was so intense… it felt incredible. Ivan thrust into him again and then started a fast rhythm, pounding Alfred into the covers, the bed shifting position from the force but any noise was drowned out by Alfred's noises. Ivan knew they were both close and he wanted Alfred's first time to be perfect, so pulled out and climbed onto the bed, easing Alfred to the middle of the bed and onto his back, lowering himself over him and entering again, holding his legs up against his shoulders and as he pushed in, moved so close that Alfred was practically bent double. He was flexible, Ivan noted happily. They were both moaning and kissing as Ivan kept the thrusts slow and grinding, with the intention of focusing on Alfred, and he had the boys blunt little nails digging into his back as he did so.

"I'm getting close." Ivan said quietly in a break between kisses.

"Fucking-mmmmmm try to-never-finish." Alfred moaned, smiling up at him in adoration, which Ivan put down to him being the man to take his virginity.

"I am." Was all he said in reply before lowering his head to Alfred's shoulder and giving him another love bite on the same side as the last one, but lower, causing Alfred to cry out with pleasure. Ivan was focusing on the bite but soon noticed Alfred trying to grind down as the thrusts weakened, so as the bite finished, he thrust up sharply and hit Alfred's prostate dead on, causing him to scream and finish, white sparks dancing in his eyes and a choked scream come from his mouth, muscles spasming around Ivan who consequently finished soon after with a happy groan, grinding into him for as long as he could before shrinking out and stayed hovering over him for a moment before he smiled fondly and kissed the forehead of the man below him. Alfred had gone unconscious.


	3. Chapter 3

**It's been unforgivably long since my last update, sorry everyone. I think there might be small frequent chapters if I have another writer's block, but hopefully just lots of big ones. We'll see..but I'll do my best to not make you wait for so long without any form of update. xxxx ps. still don't own anything of hetalia**

Alfred slept soundly that night. He slept soundly every night but being left alone at his door after one last kiss, he suddenly realised how tired he was. Ivan had told him not to follow him to the docks, remembering where they were from there, and Alfred begrudgingly accepted. After watching him fade into the night, Alfred sailed inside and somehow made it to his bedroom. He closed his eyes as he undressed, remembering Ivan doing it earlier and fell into bed with a big smile on his face, feeling changed forever.

Arthur had stumbled in a few hours later and drunkenly sang all the way to his room before falling into bed. Neither man woke till much later and Arthur knocked on Alfred's door, coffee in hand.

"Alfred? I brought you a drink since you aren't up yet and probably need it." He waited a bit longer and knocked again. "I'm coming in…" He took a deep breath and pushed the door open, poking his head around. Just as he knew it would be, Alfred's room was a mess. The walls were covered with posters of airship captains, newspaper clippings and, more worryingly, a growing collection of wanted posters of handsome criminals. The floor was coated in oily newspaper remains, ruined cogs and wires, oily clothes, oily footprints, and a lot of old food and drink- also oily. It really, really needed cleaning. Arthur picked his way across to the bed by the window and tried to avoid any greasy puddles. Alfred was sprawled on his front, hugging his pillow and snoring softly, obviously a bit hot last night since his clothes were on the floor at his feet. Arthur thought about taking him to the doctors, the old building they lived in was rather cold at nght without the fire. It was summer so he never thought to turn it on.

"Morning, lad." He said, gently shaking his shoulder. He got a grunt in reply and was satisfied with that, ruffling his hair fondly before setting the coffee on the floor by his pillow. "Don't step in your coffee, it's by the bed." Another grunt. "I'm opening the shop now, so keep quiet if you can, unless you'd like to help me out, of course." Arthur didn't like anyone to know his son was around but not helping, it was not proper behaviour in his society for a son to be lazy. He didn't mind, so long as Alfred was happy and that no one found out. Of course, when Alfred did help, albeit a little clumsily and unenthusiastically, Arthur enjoyed the day a lot more. He had no reason to stay longer with Alfred so just sighed and manoeuvred his way back out and down to the shop. They were late in opening but not many people came until eleven so he wasn't too bothered.

Arthur winced as he unlocked the door and turned on the mechanics in the window to attract visitors. The sunlight burned into his hungover eyes, filtered by fog as it was. He gratefully retreated to his shadowy second worktop at the back of the shop, sipping on his third tea of the morning and putting the finishing touches to a mechanical bear that he hoped to finish that day.

Three hours passed and Arthur had just sold the most expensive pocket watch for £200. He could get a new desk and something great for Alfred's birthday, maybe even a night in a floating hotel with that money! After finally finishing the bear, he set it in the window and closed shop for lunch, and with still no sign of Alfred, Arthur jogged upstairs to tell him the exciting news.

"Alfred? You'll never guess what we sold this morning!" He knocked on his son's door but got no sound. "Are you still asleep!?" Arthur threw the door open and froze. Alfred was standing stark naked and hunched over in the middle of the floor, clothes in his arms. Wide eyes looked back at his father, and his blanket lay on the floor where it was thrown a few minutes earlier, the remaining sheet on his bed covered in bloodstains.

"Good God, what's wrong, why didn't you tell me? Bang on the floor or something!" Arthur hurried over to him, only one thought in his mind. 'please not consumption, please not consumption, please not consumption.'

"Alfie, have you been coughing?" He knew his voice was shaky, but there were more important things to worry about than his composure.

"No, hell no, I've not been coughing at all. I think I know what it is." Alfred said uncharacteristically quietly, something Arthur took as a bad sign.

"No!" Arthur choked out, and to Alfred's horror, his green eyes welled up with tears and he hugged Alfred tightly. "I'll spend every damn penny to get you well again! We'll go to bloody Rome if we must. That new idea of spending time in a hot country with none of this accursed smog and-and it helps your lungs." So they say. God let them be right. Alfred was starting to worry too now. His father was never so emotional, had something happened in the shop? No it must be something else. He didn't seriously think Alfred was dying or something, right?

"Silly Pops." Alfred grinned, dropped the clothes and hugged him back in one of his bone crushing hugs that Arthur needed right now. "It's kinda embarrassing…" Arthur blinked away his tears but still clung to his son, bracing himself for whatever was wrong.

"Last night I sort of did it with a man and woke up with blood on my clothes and the bed and stuff." Alfred said it so fast that Arthur had to pause and process it.

"Hang on, wait a sec." he dropped his arms and stood in front of Alfred, scowl back on his face. "You were buggered last night? When the hell was this? In here?!"

"No, hell no." Alfred laughed and punched Arthur's shoulder gently, knowing how much stronger he was than the smaller man. "I went out to the docks and his ship had just arrived. He's a captain, by the way- from Moscow. So yeah, we went to an inn. You'd have liked it, for sure." He hadn't noticed Arthur going pale and looking back at the blood-stained sheets, then at Alfred casually chatting away about this mysterious captain.

"Alfred, shut up and listen to me. Go have a shower, you can use the hot water. I want you to add your sheets to the washing and then meet me in the kitchen for lunch." After a small 'yessir' from Alfred, Arthur added: "And don't forget to wash your damn hands." before stomping back downstairs, embarrassed and confused.

It had never crossed his mind that Alfred would be interested in men, He'd always been so keen in women. Arthur was just grateful that his son was back home safe and sound, pretty much. He hoped Alfred wouldn't think to question as to why he knows about such…predicaments…as the one he's in.

Later on, Alfred hobbled down the stairs to find Arthur sitting at the head of the table sipping yet another cup of tea, one slender leg neatly folded over the other.

"Right lad, take a seat." He pushed a plate of sandwiches over and Alfred sat uncomfortably, eagerly picking a sandwich up, the filling was cold duck meat from the roast on Sunday. They had no chance of cooking a roast dinner by themselves, so always bought the meat from the butchers pre-cooked and only needing a few minutes over the fire before being ready to eat. Alfred couldn't tell what else was in the sandwich, and didn't care. It was food and he was hungry.

Arthur finished his tea in silence, stealing one of Alfred's sandwiches as he thought of how to say this without getting shouted at or ignored. He could see Alfred getting bored and swinging on the chair awkwardly, most of the weight on his hands this time, so took that as a sign to just spit it out, and say it.

"If you're going to keep having intimate relations with men, Alfred, I will take you to the apothecary to get you some medicines which keep you safe. You will take them, understood? I will not have you catching anything. You do know the dangers of not only men, but of sailors? They sleep around, lad. Crawling with nasties. You should know me well enough by now to know that I would be completely accepting of a relationship with a nice young man from the city, or even the countryside, but anyone who travels really isn't a smart choice. And also, it isn't good to throw your body at their feet straight away, another problem with sailors. They should court you, just as you would for a lady." Arthur paused, quite pleased with how that went, and waited for a response.

"Yes, pop." was all Alfred said, not hearing a word, but focussed on the open doorway to the shop behind Arthur. To be more accurate, the woman waiting patiently outside, looking at the window displays. She wore a wine coloured corset and jacket with a non-matching deep purple bustled skirt that seems to have once been quite expensive but was by now patched with brown cotton and leather, its hem ragged and trailing on the floor. She had a hand on the window, red nails and elegant fingers showing through the end of a ripped glove, long blonde hair loosely tied up in a bun, escaped strands all around her face and catching the light perfectly. To Alfred she looked like a fallen angel.

Alfred saw the bear than Arthur had been tirelessly working on, sitting on a red cushion and looking back at her, head tilted slightly as if in curiosity, obviously being the object that had caught her eye. Alfred was torn between watching the mysterious woman and the beauty that was the bear, a good view of its cogs turning from where he was. The gentle whirring of clockwork was a noise that he was brought up listening to, and loved it.

Each year that someone won the royal engineering award, Alfred felt more and more angry for his father. The things he created were much more impressive than the stupid clocks that won last year. Their little shop just didn't have the international recognition that was required to be considered for such a prestigious prize.

"Pop, someone's outside. She's hot. Time to get off lunch break." Alfred shot out of his seat before Arthur could turn his head to see the woman, and had unlocked the door, smiling charmingly and welcoming her in. Arthur decided to take Alfred to the alchemist, whether he was smitten by a captain or experimenting, it would set his own mind at rest to know that he's not at risk. He poured another cup of tea and then joined Alfred in the shop, but with one look at the woman, vowed to stay out of the way to hide his blush. She really was a beauty.

"Good afternoon," she said with a charming smile to Alfred and then repeated to Arthur, who replied with a quiet and awkward 'afternoon'. "Would it be a nuisance to see ze little animal?" She walked to the bear and pointed to it, "Zis one. My little girl fell in love wiz it so we 'ad to come in." She turned her head and held a hand out and a teenage girl in a simple cotton dress and cheap corset grabbed her hand and was gently pulled next to her, very much resembling her mother. Alfred peered around to see her, not realising anyone else was there. She was cute!

"Mama, I really don't want to make a scene, please can we just-"

"No scene, I'll get the bear for you!" Alfred said quickly, stepping over some other inventions and gently picking it up. How the hell had Arthur made it so light?

"Don't drop it, lad," a warning tone came from the back of the shop and the girl jumped, not realising that anyone else was there.

"Yes, pops." Alfred said simply, but rolling his eyes. He knows better than to banter with his father when there were customers present. He set it gently on the table and hadn't realised that it had been clinging to his apron straps, releasing him as it touched the table.

"So it's a bear, ma cherie…much sweeter and smaller than I imagine zem, and for zat I'm glad." she giggled a little, and her daughter just let her hand go and took a step closer to it.

"Am I allowed to touch it?" She asked excitedly, and Alfred just shrugged.

"Sure, he won't bite!" He laughed obnoxiously and the woman giggled again, Arthur just rolling his eyes and carrying on drawing up a plan for a new pocket watch.

The girl moved closer and lightly brushed a finger against his paw, and the bear moved his claws to rest around her finger, like a baby to his mother. "Mama please…." she whispered desperately, her other hand gently stroking his smooth head, seeing a bear cub, not a clever piece of mechanics.

Her mother asked with a hint of dread in her tone, "How much is eet?"

"£30." Arthur said before Alfred could read the actual higher price on the price sheet. He loved to sell his pets to people who love them, like this girl.

"Ah, well, we can come back later, oui Madeleine?" Juliette felt her heart ache. £30 was far too much to-she looked at her daughter. Her little girl who never asks for anything, never complains about being left alone for most of the day, every day. Juliette bit on a dark stained lip as she thought. How many clients would she need to make £30… "_What is 30 divided by 2?"_ she asked in French, not wanting these respectable people to realise her job, if they haven't already by her appearance.

"_15, mama. Why do you ask?" _Suddenly Juliette looked determinedly at Alfred.

"Can you keep it reserved for a couple of days?"

"I-can we?" Alfred asked, confused. Arthur decided that it was time to join them in the shop.

"Its price in the accounts is £50." He said calmly as he walked over and saw his bear watching him, paw holding the girl's hand. It even wanted them to buy it. "You can understand why I hesitate to reserve it for £30." He tried to speak gently, but from the look in her eyes, Arthur could tell she was stressed. Damn, now she thought he was charging her that much. He was a terrible businessman, reducing the price for women, upping the price for the wealthy, not being consistent…but blast it all, he was doing something right- Alfred hadn't gone without a meal for years now.

"We really-don't 'ave zat sort of money right now." she turned to her daughter. "Madeleine, mama's sorry but we can't buy ze bear." Juliette felt like the worst parent in the world right now, leading her daughter away from the first present she's asked for in years. Suddenly, Arthur had had enough. What was £20 when he'd just made £100?

"Wait, I'll reserve it. £30." Juliette turned to him and smiled in delight, as did her daughter, a hand up to her mouth to try to hide it.

"Oh merci, monsieur! Zank you so much, I will get it to you as soon as I can."

"Yes, that's very well. How long would you like me to reserve him for?"

"Two days. I can 'ave it by two days." Arthur led her to the counter and he pulled out an inventory, writing in his beautiful handwriting 'reserved' next to the item at the top.

"And under what name, madam?"

"Juliette Bonnefoy." He hesitated about the spelling, bloody continental names. "Would you like me to spell it?" she asked playfully, leaning over the counter closer to him, her flirtatious nature taking over now she's talking with such a good, handsome man. She wondered if he made them or just bought and sell, but after a quick look at his hands and clothes it was obvious that he made them.

"Yes please, sorry about this." He said self-consciously, the little blush on his face growing with every letter she said, much to her enjoyment.

He finished with a little flourish of the quill, and smiled at her. "I'll be seeing you in a couple of days then, miss Bonnefoy."

"Yes you shall, mister…"

"Kirkland. Arthur-" He nods to his son. "-and Alfred." Alfred looked up and smiled, feeling guilty about being caught inspecting the clockwork in the bear.

"I'll see you soon little bear," Maddie said softly, pressing a little kiss to its head. It looked up and said one word, "who?" and Arthur felt his heart skip a beat. He had tried to give it a voice but it hadn't worked, or so he had thought. He hurried away from a confused Juliette and to the bear.

"I'm Maddie." She said with a smile, not realising how revolutionary this was, till Alfred started whooping as he realised too, and Arthur laughed.

"Shut up, lad." he said in good humour. "Those German wankers had better watch out next year. Talking pets. Talking pets, can you believe it!?"

Juliette walked back to her daughter as Alfred and Arthur started excitedly discussing the workings, something she had absolutely no idea about. They need to celebrate whatever had just happened and she needed to get to the streets as soon as she could, despite demand being much less before it got dark. 15 clients needed just for the bear, and that's not enough. They need to eat, to save up for rent, to buy Maddie books. Juliette was passionate about her daughter moving up in society, even owning her own shop one day. She was learning all about botany and natural medicines, such knowledge was sure to help her somehow.

"Maddie, darling, we 'ave to go. Zank you, misters Kirkland et Kirkland. We are ever so grateful for zis."

Arthur walked them to the door, face lit up with happiness. "Not at all, not at all. Take care, ladies."

As they left, Arthur picked up the bear and set it safely back in his workshop, who, despite refusing to speak again, had made his year. "Alfred lad, fetch your coat and hat. We're going out to celebrate."

"Yes pops! And don't forget your money this time!" He laughed at Arthur's grumbles at that comment, and scurried upstairs, the pain from last night catching up with him as he stopped at his room, making his limp come back, even though he'd easily been hiding it earlier.

They were soon walking through the smoggy market streets together, the perfect middle class father and son. Top hats with cog decoration to show their trade, black frock coats reaching their knees and wearing their polished shoes, not leather boots. Arthur had bought a cane from a trader once but had never been brave enough to use it, feeling like a poser of the upper class. Alfred told him he was being ridiculous but Arthur was very stubborn and never really listened to him anyway.

"Let's go to that new fangled floating restaurant, lad. I hear they have food from all over the world." Alfred's eyes lit up and he made a happy noise.

"We can afford that? Yes, totally! Have to go!" Alfred decided that whatever they served there, he was having something from Moscow.

Meanwhile, at the rich distract, Juliette had already got her first customer, remembering that she needs to visit the alchemist to buy more sterility potion.


	4. Chapter 4

**okay, long wait as always. sorry everyone! I had bits written for ages but never could think of how to fill them out or join them up. I think it'll be shorter than the other chapters but I genuinely might start doing that, so you have at least SOMETHING to read xD anyway, hope you enjoy this and it makes sense. It's pretty late here and I might have missed some mistakes**

"That French woman was really hot, wasn't she?" Alfred asked as they left the restaurant.

"She's too old for you, lad." Arthur smirked, tipping his hat as a couple of ladies walked past. Alfred forgot and received a light smack on the arm for his bad manners. He hoped Arthur would give up on him one day but doesn't think it likely anytime soon, being the only child, and a son at that, Arthur put lots of pressure on him to perform and Alfred tried. Sometimes. He wanted to turn into the man his father wanted him to be, but he would much rather be a captain of the air guard. He supposed he was lucky - some people at workshops and apprentices get beaten by their fathers, Arthur shouts at him at worst but never for simply being there. Only when he does something truly terrible will Arthur hit him.

"Her daughter's a sweet little thing. What did you think of her?" Alfred only shrugged, he hadn't really noticed her. He decided to change the subject slightly.

"What if they don't have the money? Will you sell it to someone else?" Arthur raised an eyebrow at Alfred and smirked as they waited for a motorcar to pass. The smog was getting worse as they headed to the factories to collect a fresh supply of clockwork parts.

"Shallow breaths, Alfred." His father reminded as the scent of coal and dirty bodies filled their noses, dust coating their mouths and lungs. "And no, I would probably work on its voice and-" he coughed hoarsely and removed his hipflask from his waistcoat pocket and took a quick drink. He offered it to Alfred who silently took it and had the smallest of sips. Whiskey. "We'll talk later, when out of his atrocious dust."

They opened the doors to a building that was more of a furnace than a factory. Metal was being melted and shaped into the basic mechanical components that the Kirklands relied on for their products. Arthur knocked on the factory owner's door and was soon granted entry. The office was miraculously clear of smoke and even had a breeze from the mechanical spinning flowers, some were Arthur's, that were strategically placed to circulate air around the room. A lead water jug was on the desk next to the man, complete with the ever-dissatisfied expression on his face.

"I was expecting you tomorrow, Mr Kirkland." He said, and in a tone that made clear how difficult his schedule had now become, or had perceived it to be at the change. At the end of the day, the Kirklands were his clients, so he decided to just relent. He poured two glasses of water for them and stood up. "Please sit down. I will have your order brought in." He adjusted his glasses, strutted off to the backroom, and snapped out an order to his apprentice. "Kirkland. £40. Clockwork. Be quick about it." The auburn haired youth waved in acknowledgement and skipped away down the rows of boxes and chests of all qualities and sizes, looking for the small metal chest that was the Kirklands' order.

Arthur checked his pocket watch before slipping it back into his waistcoat and glancing at Alfred to check the boy wasn't about to break anything. A well-timed cough made Alfred stop reaching for the water. Arthur knew from experience that water is one of the most hazardous drinks one can have in London. He blamed it for the death of his elder brother. Alfred recognised the meaning od that cough and scratched his head to disguise the move for the glass. His throat was parched and he coughed honestly, trying to keep it soft and controlled like Arthur had taught him, but it came out as a lung filled and ugly sound as he desperately needed something other that dust in him. Arthur quickly unscrewed and held out his flask again, which Alfred accepted gratefully. The factory owner just looked at Alfred in disgust and was met by an angry pair of bright green eyes in return.

Soon enough the box had been found, though it felt like hours to the pacing Arthur. Alfred had been pretending to adjust something in his pocket watch. The apprentice appeared dragging a box behind her, and making noises of unhappiness at the weight. It was only a wooden thing with brass fittings, just the right size for an armful. Then again, the apprentice was a little thing, and her employer brushed her away back to the other room and lifted the box onto the desk.

He withdrew a list and read the contents out as Arthur frowned a little and tried to make sure that it was correct. Unlike last time. He removed a cloth purse and piled up £40 on the desk next to the box. When both men were satisfied and Arthur had another drink, he wrapped his arms around the box and gritted his teeth as he lifted the heavy thing. Unbeknownst to him, Alfred had quietly come up behind him, ready to take over when Arthur accepted defeat. A small goodbye was all the conversation that passed between them and then they left the room, Alfred shutting the door behind them.

The second the door was shut, Arthur let his shoulders slump as he tried to get a better grip on the box.

"Come here sir. I'll carry it." Alfred said politely, but Arthur shot him a defiant glare and struggled to the stairs. Alfred's whole face contorted with a grimace as he waited any second for a crash signalling that Arthur fell. One. Two. Three. Four. Five steps passed by with no trouble, but with a little worried grimace, Arthur adjusted the box but lost his footing, saved from a potentially humiliating and painful fall by Alfred who had darted in front of him and put his own arms under the box. Arthur fell into him and the worst that happened was him head-butting Alfred's shoulder. He was instantly muttering and spluttering insults and apologies as he stormed down the rest of them, and Alfred easily kept up with the box in his arms. It really wasn't that heavy, maybe Arthur needed to go back on the coal tablets to help his bones.

"Are you alright carrying that home, lad?" Arthur asked gruffly once he'd calmed down and they were back in the streets and their eyes had stopped watering from the dust and the heat. Arthur was trying to remove the black streaks from his face with his handkerchief but it was no easy feat and he only succeeded in making it more obvious and it spreading to the cloth.

"Yeah, no problem. It's not heavy at all, sir." He glanced at a dubious Arthur and then held it with one hand, although a little painful, definitely possible. "See?"

A few minutes later, they passed the affluent part of town and both men soaked up the painted and ornate bicycles, finely tailored clothes, fashionable women and dashing men, all enjoying life with their inherited fortunes. If they strained their eyes, they could even see a patch of green that was the park – only open to residents, of course. It was the best place to live, for both your health and your reputation, but such luxury came at a cost.

When Arthur was a young man courting Alfred's mother, he'd been saving up money for a 'Green Street' house for years. As an apprentice he earned very little, so took on various other jobs and even grew his hair long for it to be sold. His golden hair was valuable for wigs. He gave her the jar as a wedding present, and they cracked it open that night. It reached over £300 and they had hopes of living on that street, of their children growing up in luxury. When they inquired however, they were turned away immediately. It appeared that status must have been earned before the cost was even considered.

"Pops?" Alfred asked gently, his eyes softening as he saw Arthur staring at the houses distantly. "Come on old man, we have to open the shop." Arthur grunted in agreement and tore his eyes away from the patch of green, trying to do the same to his mind and of his dear Lili.

They reached the shop and Alfred refilled the drawers with clock components, metal pieces and the other parts from their order.

"He left out the copper wire!" He called upstairs to Arthur. The man had refilled his hipflask and then poured a glass of whiskey to dull his mind enough to return to work and stop thinking about his hopeless dreams.

"What was that?" Arthur asked as he leant over the top of the stairs and the two met eyes.

"Wire. He forgot it." Alfred said 'forgot' as if he knew that it wasn't forgotten at all.

"That Austrian bastard!" Arthur cursed him and knocked back his glass before joining his son in the shop. "I'm finding a new supplier. I don't care HOW close they are. This is not acceptable!" Alfred left the drawers as Arthur poured over the itinerary list from Roderich and compared it with what they were actually given, cursing the man all the while. It had been a while since they'd received a correct order.

Alfred flipped the door sign to 'open' and re-wound the objects that had slowed to a stop from having been forgotten to be turned off before.

When he was satisfied that they were working and the shop was looking good, he yawned and scratched his head. "I'm going back to sleep, pops." He yawned, slurring his words.

"Tired, Alfie?" Arthur asked with a little smile. "Be off with you, then. Oh, and you need to clean your floor." Both of them knew that is was more likely for Alfred to grow a pair of wings than clean his room without Arthur threatening him, but he mumbles an agreement and shuffled off to his room as Arthur nipped to the kitchen to boil some water for tea.

Around this time, a few hundred feet above sea level, an airship was burning. Two captains were bellowing orders to their surviving men as the burning ship's rigging remained tangled in the victor's, pulling them both quickly down to the land below. Both were proudly flying the black flag of the pirates, both had tricked the other by using the common disguise of traders. The fight had been a long one, neither surrendering despite the heavy losses on both sides and the potential danger of being so low in the air. The air guard owned the skies this low, and were the pirates' greatest risk of being destroyed. Of course, they only started to really fall low as the Swiss ship caught fire with the other still entangled.

Ivan skewered another man, the body sliding off his sword, when he suddenly felt his feet leave the desk for an instant as the ships twisted and sped up their descent. He called his men to leave the Swiss and return to their own, spotting his dead helmsman leaning over the wheel, and seeing the only way back to his own ship was to cross the burning rigging. Not only were his men scrambling across, but the Swiss' too, their captain stubbornly staying on deck and commanding them to not be cowards. Ivan looked longingly back at the doors hiding the treasures he'd lost most of his crew for, now destined to turn to ashes or left at the mercy of whoever's land they were over.

The Swiss captain had seen him and was getting his pistol out, aiming it at Ivan's heart. Ivan smiled wider as he let the man shoot. It was worth the wasted seconds, just to see his reaction. Ivan heard the bullet shoot off his metal rib that he'd had installed, only the slightest pain as it passed through his skin and muscle. Compared to previous pain he'd experienced, this was nothing. The captain screamed with despair and fury, face just as he'd hoped. Ivan was dimly aware of his first mate crossing the rigging again and grabbing his arm as he watched the Swiss captain doomed to burn on his own ship. The woman pulled Ivan back to his own ship, and with a quick, 'I've got him!' the ship shot upwards as the rigging was cut and more air pumped into the balloon. The Swiss ship immediately plummeted vertically and turned into a fireball before colliding with the ground and exploding.

Ivan woke up in the surgery room. His skin had been sewn back together and there was a strange feeling in his left hand. He lifted his head gingerly, hoping to not find a stump or part-built machine in place of a hand.

Toris heard the furious scream from the deck, the captain already halfway out to the deck before he could make it back to his surgery.

"_Who did this_?!" Ivan asked in Russian around the deck, anger showing for a change. The crew didn't know which was scarier, not knowing if they were angering him, or being shouted at with such fury that they knew he'd throw them overboard without a second thought, should he wish it. The Swiss crew who'd abandoned their own ship looked even more scared, his temper previously unknown to them.

Ivan held up his left hand, the deep gash across the back was sealed shut with a layer of melted lead. If there was one thing Ivan couldn't stand, and Ivan couldn't stand many things, it was metal-treatment for unnecessarily small wounds. Toris should know better.

"Raivis…" Toris, the ship's surgeon, muttered desperately under his breath and took a deep breath before facing Ivan. He knew Raivis was too young to take on as an apprentice, but it's too late now. Unless he calmed Ivan down, someone was going to die. "Please let me extract it for you, Captain." He put a gentle hand on Ivan's arm, hoping that the touch would calm him like it sometimes does. Of course, sometimes a touch on the arm wasn't enough. He had once been operating on Ivan when he'd underestimated his dosage of sedative and ended up being crushed to the side of the room, only for Ivan's expression to turn from fury to loving in an instant, and passionately kissed him up against that same wall. Toris had never felt the same about Ivan since that day, and although he'd deny it, he did love their mentally unstable captain.

Call it lucky or no, the hand on his arm was all that was needed for the smile to fill that childish face again. Toris led him back into the surgery and carefully prised away the lead, cleaned the wound a few times and sewed it back up in the simple way that he usually did; the way that his captain liked. Ivan gave him a grateful word or two and then returned to the decks to organise the new crew.

Toris could help but feel disappointed by the lack of…anything...from his captain Come to think of it, Ivan hadn't been pursuing him at all since they'd left London. Whilst pondering this, Toris missed the command, but felt the ship change position and first mate Natalia pacing and inspecting and staring. She was toying with a knife in her hand as she always did, and looked over to Ivan who was organising the Swiss into groups. Who knows why? It's best not to question him.

She stared hungrily at his broad shoulders, muscular back and his round behind. All his beauty was usually hidden by his coat, but she knew they were there. When he'd been with Toris, Ivan always left his coat inside, revealing his shirt and scarf. Sensing someone was watching him, Ivan turned and saw her. He waved and smiled, a smile of familiarity and trust, and it made Natalia's heart flutter as she returned the wave. Just then, a scream sounded from below decks and the quartermaster, Katya, ran out on deck screaming.

Ivan turned his back on the Swiss to face her, and walked over with a comforting smile on his face and arms outstretched for a hug. It was only then, did a Swiss captive remove a knife from their boot and run at Ivan.


End file.
